The Many Frustrations of Chichi Son
by RiddletheSphinx
Summary: Sort of a spin off of I Didn't Ask For This J. L. Lunar. Chichi can't stop being frustrated, sexually and emotionally by her stupid alien neighbour. He has to stop being so sexy.
1. Chapter 1

Piccolo would deny it to his dying day, but sometimes, just sometimes Chichi started to get under his skin. Just a few comments that while they might not produce his normal bluster and yelling, stuck with his long after they were done arguing. One of those things were her digs at his clothes, it wasn't something that he had ever really cared about. There was when he was a kid and only dressed in Namekian clothing because it never really crossed his mind that he could dress any other way. In his rebellious phase he had just copied what he saw in magazines or on the street, not to mention what would piss his father off the most.

He felt little desire to try and dress up any longer, even Namekian clothes left a bad taste in his mouth. It just remind him just a little bit too much of his father and he would rather not get involved with that train of thought. So he just went with the easiest thing, sweat pants. It was still a little bit enough like his Ramekin clothes that he felt comfortable, but removed enough that it wouldn't trigger any uncomfortable feelings.

Of course he wasn't allowed to be comfortable, if it wasn't his father attempting contact through his uncle or one of the cousins, it was that damn Milk poking into his life. If it wasn't for her kid, he would have cut off any and all contact with the damned woman. He would have preferred it that way.

But the kid, the kid had that annoying ability to crawl straight under his skin and quite possibly into his heart, he had a soft spot for kids, no matter what his father said he was supposed to act like. After a point he had just started ignoring everything that came out of the old man's mouth. When he got sick most it started to be nonsense that no one else understood.

And sometimes, just sometimes he would listen to what the kid would tell him. Some of it would be general nonsense, about movies or whatever he was doing at school. Other times it would be something worth listening to. A lot of it he would ignore, in one ear and out the other. Every once in a while something would slip through his filter of nonsense and catch his attention. Normally involving the words "Mom".

"Mom was just wondering if you needed any help getting pants, because um", Gohan stumbled a little bit, unable to finish the thought, "She said that most men your age are able to put a proper pair of pants on without assistance"

"Oh, did she now?" Piccolo grumbled, leaning on the counter so close that his forehead was almost pressed into the cool surface. Technically he didn't care about what Milk said, technically she wasn't anyone who he needed to pay attention to or care about, but still. Still. He could almost hear her in that voice again,

"I didn't think sweatpants are traditionally Namekian", the condescension thick in her voice and the narrowed eyes as she looked him up and down like he was nothing to her.

Bitch.

He mumbled something at Gohan that might have been watch the shop or just don't die, and he stomped out of the room, a confused Gohan looking after him as he went. He didn't offer any other explanation, what he was doing was embracing enough without the kid knowing what his plan was.

Piccolo had honestly not cared that much about what he was bringing when he came to Dende's shop, he just wanted an excuse not to be his father's side as he wasted away. Honestly the flower shop was just barely the lesser of two evils, at least he could yell at people and they would leave him alone. His father would have just shouted back, until they were both hoarse and Kami forced them to sit in different rooms like they were children.

Plenty of his things were still in boxes, not that he had that much to begin with. It only took a few minutes to find the one pair of jeans he still owned, form his rebellious phase. Holding them up he could barely believe that he had worn them even then, they didn't look like they could contain his calves let alone his thighs.

It took some wiggling, wiggling that he was glad no one would ever see because he would not be embraced like that. Piccolo did not wiggle. Ever. In the end he was afraid that the button would just pop off and that would be the end of that experiment.

But instead with a bit of squeezing, the button came together. He felt like he was one of those sausages that the humans liked so much, but he was wearing the jeans and he would prove to Milk that he could put on a pair of jeans. Not that he cared about what she thought.

Coming back down the stairs, he could swear that the jeans and his knees were creaking under the extra pressure, "Come 'on kid, you're going home", he ignored Gohan's looks, knowing that would he was doing could only look nothing but beyond bizarre to his little employee.

But to his credit, Gohan didn't mention the pants or why his friend was wearing them. He was starting to get used to the idea that Junior wasn't the most normal or sensible man (alien) that existed.

Chichi was tried, there had been a few too many screw ups that day, Bulma's wrist was wrapped in bandages form a burn, she was pretty sure her toe was broken, and it felt like she had lost about ten pounds in sweat. So when Junior brought Gohan over, she was almost ready to cry with relief. At the very least with her son around, everything felt a little better, a little more happy. Or that might have been her desire to keep up a brave face for him.

With all of that going on, she wasn't really paying attention, until Bulma let out a breath, the kind of airy breath a woman gives when she sees something she likes. Followed closely by a long drawn out, "Dammmmn"

Curious about what would draw such a reaction from her worker, Chichi looked up from her cutting board and almost dropped her knife straight on her foot. Gohan was there of course, and there was nothing wrong with him but Junior…Junior was.

Junior was wearing jeans. And that would have been strange enough, she had never seen him in anything but sweat pants, but how tight they were….She could swear that he had spray painted them on. She had an idea of what his legs must look like, considering that he had large biceps and those tank tops showed off his pecs (that she was looking. Really. She just knew how to appraise a fighter).

The jeans hung tight against his thighs, thighs that looked like he could squeeze a watermelon (or a head) between and it would explode. And his hips, she was pretty sure that she had seen women with smaller hips then that. The jeans fit all the way down to his calves, hugging every curve and showing off every muscle that he had clearly developed over years of training. She wasn't aware that she was staring, her eyes dragging form those perfect calves, to the strong thighs, just for a moment lingering over what she could swear was a bugle (she thought that Namekains were asexual, did they actually have…junk), until Bulma elbowed her in the side.

Bulma was bright red, something that Chichi had never seen before not even when one of the customers flirted with her. She could feel the heat in her own face and she could only assume that she looked similarly.

"Ah…new pants Junior?" She managed to stammer out, attempting to not have her eyes drift down to the area where those jeans started to wrinkle and pull in towards those thighs. Jesus. She was starting to realize that it had been a little bit too long. More than a few years actually, if she really thought about it, since Gohan had come into the picture Goku hadn't been all that interested in sex. Not that his interest before had been all that high, but she had been able to convince him with the idea of having a child. Apparently the idea was better than the reality for him, considering he wasn't around for his son anymore.

Junior blinked, looking at the two women and then back to Gohan as if the kid could tell him what the hell was wrong with the two women, "Thanks Milk. I believe this proves that you were wrong and I do own other clothes. What's that, 23 to 8?"

"Ah…sure", Chichi wet her lips, refusing to admit that she might have been licking her lips and not just trying to help out the dry lips, "Thank you for bringing GOhan over"

Bulma bumped her hips against the counter ever so subtly, but hard enough to knock something off of the counter, "Oh shoot!" she reached forward to grab the spoon, only for her foot to connect with the object. It slid across the floor, landing just behind Junior, "Junior could you get that for me? I mean it was just an accident…"

He grunted, clearly displeased with the fact that she was making him do something. He turned on his heel, and bent over. Bulma and Chichi let out a gasp together at the scene in front of them. The jeans were almost sculpted to his ass, showing off the arc of each cheek, tight enough that it was pretty clear he wasn't wearing any underwear underneath.

"Dear god if you don't hit that I will", Bulma murmured to Chichi, their eyes trained on the ass in front of them. As Junior stood up, the muscles in his legs and butt moved, showing off just how much muscle was there.

"…", Chichi couldn't make a comment towards that because all she was thinking about was what that green ass looked like underneath the jeans. Or what everything else looked like under everything else. And again just how goddamn long it had been since she had been with anyone but herself and now she mostly too tired to even take care of herself, "…You could bounce a coin off of that ass", she finally decided on, her tongue dragging along her lips again. She suddenly felt so thirsty.

Gohan gave a sidelong look towards his mother and her employee, aware that they were talking to each other, but unable to understand what was going on. He knew enough to know that he probably didn't want to know for sure. Also that it was about Mr. Junior. Maybe they just really liked his pants.

Junior on the other hand had picked up the spoon and put it back on the counter, he was starting to think that all human women were completely insane. That was the only way that he could figure out why they were acting like idiots. Not that he would ever attempt to understand women, human or not. He was glad that his race was one of only a single gender because it led to a lot less confusion.

"…where do you keep your phone in those pants", Bulma asked, tilting her head trying to see what was going on in those pockets.

"I don't have it on me", he patted his pockets, to show that there was nothing in them. Though the women noticed how the taut muscles of his thighs didn't allow any movement form his patting.

"Ah…too bad", Bulma grabbed Junior's arm, wrapping her own arm around his, "You know Chichi I'll walk Junior out, never know what could happen", she winked at her boss, giving Junior a smirk as she led him away.

"Am I ever going to understand what just happened?" Gohan looked at his mother, who still seemed to be a little bit shell shocked.

She patted him on the head, "Maybe when you're older dear"


	2. Chapter 2

Chichi was going to kill Bulma. And Junior. And possibly Vetega if he dared to show up in the next few hours before she found a way to work out the stress that was building behind her eyes. After what she was only referring to as the pants incident (Bulma called it the booty incident), she had been attempting to stay as far away from Junior as she could. Honestly it was a little hard to look him in the eyes when all she could see was jean clad well-muscled ass floating in front of her eyes. It might have been easier to forget if Bulma would shut up about how nice it had looked.

Yes there was no way Junior knew what he had been doing, so as much as she would love to cast blame on him, it was Bulma who was currently causing her issues. By sending her pictures of Junior's ass in those damn jeans form several different angles. Apparently the only reason she had walked the alien out was to get a few pictures. Pictures that she was using purely to torment her boss with.

Despite her complaints she did tap and save quite a few of the pictures that might have been of interest to her. If only for tormenting Junior with. At least that's what she told herself about all of this because the truth was a little more embarrassing. She liked how he looked in those jeans, the way she could almost see the seams starting to burst, like those fantastic muscles were going to break the material right open.

God if that had happened, the splits in the jean spreading to reveal tantalizing bits of green skin. Maybe even some pink, if he had those same pink patches on his thighs and calves. She had never really seen a Namekian undressed (The Demon King losing bits of his clothes against Goku didn't count), so she knew that whatever she imagined couldn't measure up to the reality. Dear god she might have to ask Bulma if such a thing as Namekian porn existed if only to quench her own thirst.

Chichi's mind drifted back to Junior's jeans and those glorious glutes in said jeans. She could almost imagine the feeling of those muscles under her fingers, digging her nails into the skin. It wouldn't feel anything like human or Sayian skin, maybe more like a tough leaf, almost unyielding under her grasp.

She thanked god that Gohan was downstairs with Bulma, working on his homework while she was supposed to be cleaning up. Attempting to clear her mind, she turned the shower on as hot as she could, hoping it would clear her mind of any such filthy thoughts. Instead it only seemed to intensify her thoughts. Even without the pictures, she could see that image clear as day in her mind. Like it had been burned in there by her own lust.

Chichi leaned against the shower wall, her hand trailing down her stomach, skin slick with water. In her mind she could feel steel nails ever so gently making their way down, so lightly so not to draw blood. Not yet at least. His breath was heavy in her ear, his bulk covering her where there was so much of him touching her that her whole body was on fire. Fingers dipping lower just barely brushing against her mound.

"What do you want Milk?" that stupid nickname almost sounds sexy now, drawled out in that deep teasing voice that he only seemed to use on her. His hand was warm against her, but he wouldn't move it a single bit lower without the words he needed to hear.

"You…dumbass", she tilted her head back pressing her lips against his neck, feeling the muscles that were pulled taut. As much as he attempted to stay calm, she could tell that he was just as aroused as she was. Just barely the tip of his dick was poking out of his sheath, the barest hint that he wanted her like she wanted him.

"Right answer", his hand dipped lower ever so gently, despite his size and muscle. There was the barest pin prick of pain as the claws scrapped against her inner thigh, barely even drawing blood.

She let out a gasp, arching her back into his touch until she was almost on her tip toes. He was too damn tall, she couldn't get close enough for the touch that she so desperately needed. A deep throaty chuckle echoed through the shower as he allowed his fingers to move just slowly father and father up. When she could feel the heel of his hand almost against her clit she could have cried, she needed it so badly, needed his touch. If he would just give it to her.

The touch when it came was elastic and she was sure that she had soaked his hand but he continued on, unbothered. Careful to keep his claws away from her more delicate areas, the heel of his hand rubbed circles on her clit enough pressure to tell her that he was there but not enough to get her off.

One hand stayed pressed against the shower wall, afraid that she would fall as her legs could not stop shaking form the pleasure he was giving her but the other clasping around his back. His muscles were pulled tight, like a coiled spring that was ready to pop at any moment. And she wanted him to pop.

Her lips found the junction between his chin and his neck, attaching her lips with some about of vigour. His blood was pumping underneath his skin, only encouraging her to suck harder against his hard skin. Piccolo groaned, pressing his head into her hair as he tried to control himself. Chichi knew that he always wanted the upper hand on her, even if it was in regards to something like his own pleasure. What she was doing was only spurring him on, his hand moving faster against her. Her legs were shaking harder, and heat was curling in her belly. Chichi clenched her legs around his hand, almost so tight that he couldn't move.

It didn't help, the pressure only caused his hand to press against her harder giving her a delicious amount of friction, she was almost moving her thighs on their own now, growing closer and growing to her peak. Chichi's head slipped form Junior's neck her forehead falling against his shoulder as she began to shake.

"Come 'on Milk….come for me…", his voice was just barely above a husky whisper, everything in his voice said that he wanted nothing more than to see her fall apart with pleasure.

That was enough for her come crashing down, clutching on to Junior as she did. Goku had told her once that he thought she was dying in the middle of sex because she was a screamer. And scream she did, burying her face into his chest so that maybe it would be a little bit muffled.

Her legs shaking Chichi leaned her head back against the shower wall, any vision of Junior disappeared leaving only an empty shower and a very satisfied Chichi standing under the spray. Her other hand was stuffed in her mouth so any noise that the shower didn't cover would be muffled.

As the glow form the orgasm faded, her face flushed bright red. She had just masturbated to her neighbour, her annoying asshole neighbour who thought calling her Milk was the height of comedy. And she was still married, technically. Only in the legal sense, it had gone beyond being married for love a long time ago. She loved Goku, but he wasn't a husband or a father anymore. He just kind of was.

Junior was still an asshole though. No matter how nice is ass was or how good he was with Gohan.


End file.
